Late October Early November
by LilyBartAndTheOthers
Summary: 1989. A few days earlier, The Berlin Wall had fallen down, settling a new wind to blow around. WK Fic.
1. Prologue

"_**Late October, early November**_

_**The fall is sad, the sky is low**_

_**Hurry up and come back home**_

_**To untie the knot in my stomach**_

_**I miss you, love"**_

_**Isabelle Boulay**_

**Chapter one – prologue**

She had never had sex with a stranger before. Even less make love though that wouldn't happen before they reached a point of no-return, years later. She had lost herself in various games of seduction and flirtation but at absolutely no moment had she undressed and let a stranger's hands caress her bare skin in a silent hotel room after a five-minute talk.

She remembers the way the raindrops were falling down the windows in his back; how the transparent pearls seemed to slide on his shoulders before vanishing along his back, down his spine. She had wanted to touch his skin, there. With her fingertips. She had wanted to feel him shiver and feed herself of his heat. She hadn't asked for his name, hadn't asked for the slightest thing. She had simply wanted him.

Preferring the word 'infidelity' to the verb 'to cheat', she had dared and crossed the line after a long period of dry wonders and what-ifs. With the latent nervousness typical from the first times, she had passed the door of the hotel then headed to the bar. She had arrived early to escape from the downpour that swept away the fliers that littered the sidewalks of that part of the city. Then she had waited by the fireplace, Martini in hand; her umbrella by her side.

She would never meet Tom, if that was his real name at all. Instead, a few papers would fall down to her feet. Contracts, it had seemed. Politely, she had bent over to pick them up and that was when it had all started.

She liked the idea that a mere second could make a whole life tip over. It owned a romantic shade that intimidated her to the point she began to dream and hope for such a rare thing to happen to her. Perhaps one day, she would stop lying to herself and accept the fact that she had experienced it, way back then. On that rainy day at that impersonal hotel. But for the moment, she is still somewhere in between. Confused. Helpless.

He was younger than her. As she had handed him back the papers, she had locked her eyes with his brown ones and subconsciously engraved the features of his face in her memory. A good-looking man, in his mid-twenties. Elegant but far from the Italian suits he would end up buying a few years later; far from everything.

She had smiled at him. Brightly. Therefore they would say that she had made the first step even though she didn't like the idea at all. Seducing men was easy as long as they gave you the first gaze and let you understand that they accepted the game. She invited him to sit at her coffee table. He had a glass of red wine in hand; a Merlot. And as he had settled in the old armchair, she had got lost in the contemplation of the illusion game brought along by a torrent of raindrops falling down the windows in his back. Then they had talked randomly until she had stood up and looked down at him.

"Do you come with me?"

He wasn't the man whom she was supposed to meet. She wasn't the woman whom he could have waited for. Yet without saying a word, he had followed her up on the first floor. It had been strange to undress in front of him; to let the layers of clothes land on the carpeted floor as his brown eyes had kept on staring at the skin she was revealing little by little.

He had kissed her, passing a hand around her nape as the other had traveled on her waist almost possessively. For a few seconds, she had had doubts and almost withdrawn from his touch only to realize that she never did such a thing. Perhaps it was going too far yet there was no way for her that she could come backwards. Not now. She had missed her chance to eventually rush back to what had pushed her there in the first place.

She remembers their sighs, the rustling of the sheets and the singular sound of a skin-to-skin contact. It hadn't been relieving as she had expected it to be yet something else might have showed up; something she hadn't been able to name.

They hadn't stayed in bed afterward. As soon as they had caught their breath, they had got up and retrieved their clothes in the most complete silence; barely looking at each other, as if dealing for the first time with the eloquence of remorse.

She had offered him a cigarette which he had refused and leaning against the edge of a desk abandoned there for some blurry reason, she had swallowed back a wave of doubts.

"Are you available on Friday night?"

She had felt the heat rush up her cheeks before her sudden boldness but frowning it away, she had looked up at him then waited for an answer. Her heart had been pounding loud in her chest; almost like after a promising first date. Long seconds had flown away before him to finally react. He had seemed embarrassed, and troubled.

"Yes, I am."

As they had stepped out of the hotel to join back the rain, she had plunged her hands in the pockets of her coat thinking that it wasn't that complicated to have an affair at the end. Not such a big deal either. It barely took an hour, his tongue sliding on her flesh and her hand through his hair.

"By the way, my name is Will."

He hadn't lied. She had known about it immediately, instinctively. A truck had passed by in the narrow street and she had looked at it go away before daring to say the slightest thing.

"Karen."

Then they had left in opposite directions. It was late October, early November; 1989. A few days earlier, The Berlin Wall had fallen down, settling a new wind to blow around.


	2. At The Beginning

**Chapter two – At The Beginning**

"It is a love story or better said, the story of an affair. A woman in her thirties is married, more or less happily, to some rich businessman. Of course, she suffers from his incessant absences and feels, therefore, terribly lonely. Until the day she meets some guy by accident in the lobby of a hotel. He is younger. A tad arrogant. She can't resist... What?"

"It sounds cliched, let's face it. Almost like one of these crappy lifetime movies. You manage to guess the end after being barely five minutes in the story."

Karen frowned then shook her head, obviously offended by the remark. She didn't like when people disagreed with her; especially when she assumed that she was right.

"Perhaps at times novelty isn't what we should lust for. Sticking to the classics has its part of comfort and certainty."

Grace didn't reply but didn't look convinced either. Sipping on her coffee, she simply stood up and went for the donuts she had left on her desk. Silence fell back over the office and as if nothing had happened, the interior designer grabbed a few fabric samples.

End of the conversation.

"Well, it is a good movie. And there is nothing wrong in the idea of getting some romanticism through a screen when your own life is far from such a scheme."

"It is still an affair, the story of some impossible love that ends up triumphing over the rest. There is nothing realistic in it. Do you really think that if you were having an affair now and that you fell in love with your lover, you would obviously get a happy ending? Personally, I don't think so."

"Movies don't necessarily have to be realistic..."

But Karen's voice had changed on that last remark. A subtle veil of sadness had wrapped up her tone and she had looked down at her desk almost defeated. There was nothing wrong in the idea of dreaming; dreaming of another life, a different plot to develop. Nothing wrong at all. On the contrary...

"But still, the end is expected."

Grace was too Cartesian at times. She rarely abandoned herself to the waltz of life and let go of everything while the wind would carry her away from a person to another; from a story to the next one. Instead, she analyzed facts and focused on conclusions she could draw from them. By doing so, she was just keeping her distance with the mystery of life. Subconsciously or not.

"An affair, besides. It isn't that I am old school but why do people get married if it is only to cheat on their so-called significant one after that? Nobody forces anyone to say yes. It is one hypocritical subject, infidelity. A coward choice."

The statement was a harsh one and took Karen slightly aback. Raising a dubious eyebrow, she swallowed hard and plunged back in memories that nobody knew about. Nobody but her; and Will. She didn't consider her own affair as an act of cowardice. On the contrary, it had required boldness and a lot of courage to dare then cross the lines.

Sure after a while, some sort of routine ended up catching one back but it didn't change the obvious: infidelity was one hard task, if only at the beginning. Then you just looked like an old couple; except you kept on hiding yourself from everyone around.

Will. Like in a bad _vaudeville_, he always chose that moment to step into the office; with that typical lightness of him that Karen had learned to recognize as a ridiculous shield. As usual, he barely looked at her and went straight for Grace instead.

"Why are you eating donuts now? I am taking you for lunch!"

Pastry stuck in mouth, the red head simply nodded then motioned the backroom before she headed to it, clearly looking for a last minute fabric sample. Behind her fashion magazine, Karen hadn't missed the slightest second of the scene but like every time, it was just as if a light had been turned off in her brain and she couldn't think anymore. Thus, her instincts guided her and nothing made sense. Will had that power on her; to make her stop thinking.

"By the way, I am not available on Friday night."

Surprised to say the least, Karen looked up at Will as he had approached her desk, lowered his voice before addressing her.

"Why, you have a date?"

"My mother comes to town."

She made a face. Marilyn was a nice person yet she always had to interfere with their affair. Subconsciously, of course.

"Fine... Then on Tuesday, I suppose."

A schedule perfectly established. It had been working for a long time and none of them was planning on changing the slightest thing. They didn't like novelty. It took them aback and in front of it, they felt bare; vulnerable.

"Alright, I am ready. Karen, please don't leave now. Not today. Wait for me to come back and then eventually you can have the rest of the day. Pretty much as... As usual."

She waited for long minutes before standing up and heading to the mirror hung up above the coffee maker. Just in case Will and Grace would come back meanwhile and they would see her. Slightly dizzy, Karen stared at her reflection in the mirror. But soon the peace that her face showed up melted into a cold anger and she clenched her fists; her features slowly deepening as she bit her lower lip until she felt the taste of blood on her tongue.

Will wasn't allowed to do that to her. Not now.

Without caring about Grace's words, she put her coat on then grabbed her bag and left the office.

It was late October, early November – 1999. Ten years had passed by since she had met Will even though it seemed to have escaped his mind. The wind was blowing hard.


	3. Facts About You

**Chapter three – Facts About You**

His fingertip brushed her nape. The contact made her shiver and she closed her eyes to abandon herself to the touch completely. Soon, his lips found the base of her neck. It was warm, and arousing. As goosebumps traveled her whole body, she leaned her head on a side to give him better access then smiled as she felt his hand on her stomach.

It was a constant game of seduction. As soon as they entered the hotel room, the mere gaze turned into the first excuse to stir up their senses. Then, all of a sudden and almost without any warning, they reached a higher stage often announced by a kiss. It usually went fast as if they were just unable to resist any longer.

"Is everything ready for tonight party?"

Lately, they had developed an odd routine. Conversing while going through foreplay. Against Karen's expectations, it was actually rather exciting. A not so innocent gesture as if to, even if only falsely, pretend that nothing special was happening. Besides, it was the only occasion they had to talk. Sure within a few years, they would get a lot more but for the moment, the hotel room was the unique way for them to exchange on something else than sighs.

"He asked me to buy flowers."

'He'. She always referred to him as 'he'. Not that Will really minded. At least, she had never hidden the fact that she was married. On the contrary, her wedding band had shone on her finger the first time he had put his lips on her. And somehow he was glad that she had not tried to lie.

"Should I call you Mrs. Dalloway, now?"

The reference to Virginia Woolf's heroine made her laugh lightly but as his other hand went to caress her breasts, she held back a sigh.

"I am afraid I am closer to Emma Bovary."

"What a sad ending..."

His fingers slid down her lower stomach to finally pass underneath the lace of her thong. It made her gasp and pushed by a mischievous curiosity, Karen opened back her eyes. They were still facing the large mirror of the room; Will behind her as she stood in her underwear. He had observed her as she had undressed. Without saying a word, his eyes sliding on her curves in a loud silence. And then he had approached. And then he had kissed her.

"But it isn't supposed to happen before a lot more years."

His fingers touched her. She arched her back. She had learned a lot about herself since she had got involved into that affair. She was bold, with Will. Almost limitless. It had its danger but she couldn't care less.

She had known a lot of men, some women as well. Attention and sweetness were facts that she had received in bed yet with Will, it was different. Perhaps because she was married and would go back to her own life once she had reached her paroxysm. The prohibited side of it owned an arousing shade, of course. But still. There was something about him. About all of this; and how they barely knew each other in spite of the years, and how she had never met him in the street in spite of living in the same city.

Suggestively, she spread her legs and molded her back against his chest. She had nothing against his fingers being between her legs right now, on the contrary, but she missed a full body contact. His skin against her bare one.

"How many guests?"

"Sixty..."

She had money. It was a fact. From her _haute-couture _clothes to her expensive Italian shoes and bags, she clearly belonged to the upper class. On several occasions, she had mentioned The Upper East Side. This wasn't a surprise, on the contrary. Will could easily imagine her as some businessman's wife; the ones who slept with their tennis instructor as soon as their husbands left town. For some reason, she had gone with him.

"Any ex-lovers among them?"

His question surprised her but not as much as his hands suddenly grabbing her by the waist and lifted her only to sit her on the hotel room desk. Fine. It wouldn't be the bed, for once.

Looking up at him mischievously, she passed her tongue over her lips and unzipped his pants. It was time for him to get undressed.

"A few of them."

Though it had happened before Stanley. Will was the only one she had slept with while being someone else's wife.

An hour later, she said him goodbye on the sidewalk then turned on her left as he went on his right. As usual. Her cheeks were still pink but outside, it could be mistaken for the cold and the chilly air of the city. Except this time, instead of hailing for a cab, Karen stopped to sit down on the steps of a brownstone. She hadn't managed to stop thinking about it. At no moment had she been able to put it all aside. She was just good at pretending that it was all okay; that she was fine.

With a shaking hand, she opened her bag and took the mail out. It had arrived a few hours before she had had to meet Will. Her heart beating fast, she had run her eyes over the series of numbers before to stop on the dreadful result. One would have thought that she would have got used to it through the years but no, it always remained a lonely, bitter moment.

The test was positive.

Positive. She hated that adjective.

Swallowing hard, she stood up again and began to walk fast to nowhere in particular. It was late October, early November – 1995. She was pregnant but it wouldn't last, because Will hadn't asked for anything; because he wasn't the right one. The wind was icy so far.


	4. The Turning Point

**Chapter four – The Turning Point**

"Is everything alright? You look pale, all of a sudden."

One breathing; two perhaps if only to win some time.

"Yes, I am."

No, she wasn't but of course the rules of convenience prevented her from saying such thing. Thus, trying to pretend that the phone call hadn't altered her the slightest bit, she smiled a bit too brightly then excused herself.

For the second time in a row, Will was canceling their hotel encounter. She understood that he had a life and hopefully a less boring one than she did but his last-minute calls plunged her into a heavy decadence of regrets and then she felt lonely; almost desperate. He was all what she had at the end. Sad to say but true. That guy she barely knew gave more or less a semblance of sense to her days. So when he didn't show up, the world stumbled.

As she looked up at her reflection in the mirror, Karen swallowed hard. She had lost a lot through the past years; her beauty fading away in the cruel silence of time passing by. She was getting older, no mattered what she thought or hoped for.

With a shaking hand, she made contact with her cheeks. Her complexion had never been so pale. Actually, she was rather livid. Stanley had been right a few minutes before. She looked like a ghost.

The knock on the bathroom door in her back made her jump.

"Karen, are you alright? We need to talk."

Reluctantly, she went to open the door and with an unexpected energy, she locked her eyes with her husband's before flashing him a reassuring smile. Since when did he want to talk? The previous month, they had barely nodded at each other; at least that way, they avoided arguments.

"What do you want, honey? Is there something wrong?"

With an unusual tenderness, Stanley caressed her cheek with the back of his hand before smiling almost apologetically. He had no reason to look sorry, even less to be. Karen tried to control her quick heartbeats. In vain. She hated when situations went unplanned. She was not prepared for them and it was intimidating.

"How about we go to the restaurant, this evening? Just you and I. It has been a while... I miss it. I miss you."

It took her aback but she nonetheless accepted. And not just because Will had canceled but because she owed it to Stanley; and it was a nice gesture from him. She couldn't run away like that, pretending that nothing had happened.

The Rainbow Room was crowded but Stanley had insisted. He liked that place; the view over Manhattan that shone through the night.

"Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Walker..."

She politely nodded at the man but didn't say a word. As the hours had passed by, she had got lost into some bitter thoughts that came from nowhere in particular. Haunting her mind now. She felt cold, and lost, and lonely. As if a part of her was missing and that part turned out to be Will. Yes, she cruelly missed him. Abruptly. Immensely.

"You are stunning, tonight. But your ears need sapphires. I already got you emeralds, right? It has been too long since the last present, anyway. I will remedy to that tomorrow."

If at some point this kind of remark had made her blush and fall under his charms, things were awfully different now. It got her exhausted, almost exploded in a thousand pieces. She hated when Stanley considered her as his thing. As a matter of fact, she had always hated it from anyone; since her youngest age. Perhaps that was the reason why she liked being with Will. He never tried to buy her anything.

"Oh, Barney is here. Do you mind if I go to talk to him for a few seconds? He is an extremely important client. I just can't ignore him."

Of course, she nodded and let him go. It happened all the time. As soon as they put a foot outside, Stanley ended up meeting some acquaintance and for a few minutes, she passed to the second plan. Almost hidden somewhere in the background.

Sometimes Karen thought that there were things she preferred not to see, pretend that they didn't exist. Thus, it made it all easy if only in appearances. Just as she looked up from her lonely table while Stanley had left to talk to Barney only to see Will a few feet further.

He was sat at a table with a man; young as well, and good-looking. Of course it could have been a friend but the way they both looked at each other said it all. They were together, in a romantic way. Together when she was alone. Suddenly it burnt deep inside, somewhere not too far from her heart. She swallowed hard and breathed deeply, looking for some air, but it didn't work at all. Instead, she felt how the room began to spin around as she was losing the slightest contact with reality.

She felt sad. And hurt.

"I am sorry for this. Now I swear I won't leave you again tonight. Well, what are you going to have?"

For long seconds, she stared blankly at Stanley as he sat back on his seat. What did he do there, anyway? What did she do with him? On this planet. That world didn't make sense at all and she hated it for not being on her side, at absolutely no moment. She felt betrayed by Will and not because he was seeing a man but simply because she didn't haunt his mind as he did for hers. Even in an affair, it wasn't about reciprocity.

She had been seeing Will secretly for two years now and had just come to the conclusion that he had turned into a vital part of her life. As cruel as it got for her heart. It was late October, early November – 1991. The wind was chilly, and silent.


	5. The Years Theory

"_**You're as rare as a shooting star**_

_**I don't make a wish but take a chance**_

_**And keep your smell in my bedroom**_

_**I miss you, love"**_

**Chapter five – The Years Theory**

They took their time, now; as if the hurry they had known at some point had finally gone away and they could enjoy the moment. Unless they had simply got older and as much as it was an affair, they had learned how to become more mature, how to face a few things with a certain easiness deprived of guilt. If so then somehow, it was getting worse.

"She keeps on talking about Michael as if she were the one who couldn't turn the page over him. Not me. She is sure that he is the reason why I don't get involved in any relationship. I find it hard to tell her she is wrong."

Karen closed her eyes, the ceiling disappearing all of a sudden from her sight. Will's hand was still caressing her bare shoulder as she was laying halfway on top of him; her head on his right shoulder, her back on his chest. She could feel his heart beat fast under her own skin. It was a powerful sensation, a unique one.

"Why? Do you miss him?"

She had never minded talking about his ex-lover. As a matter of fact, it almost made her feel better; oddly enough, perhaps. She hated when he was single. If at the beginning, she had had a hard time accepting that he might have had a life outside of their hotel room, now it was the exact opposite_. _She wanted him to be with someone. Then, things seemed to own a logic they were deprived of when he was single. And a sense of guilt that faded away as well if she had had to be honest.

"No, not at all. But I don't want to tell Grace that she is wrong, on so many things. I don't want to do that to her now. There is no point in hurting her more than what I have already done."

She wasn't sure what he was alluding to; a mere argument they would have had in the morning or one of their crisis, the ones they had gone through in the eighties. Since she had got to know Grace, and Jack, every day had revealed something about Will and Grace's past. At times, she had been really surprised. Others had made her smile softly. But all in all, the sentiment she had got from this all was that she didn't know them at all.

"Lying to make her happy? Odd conclusion..."

Her remark made Will laugh but he sounded uncomfortable enough by such suggestion. A few seconds passed by before him to decide to talk again.

"Is lying always a bad thing, even when the purpose is to not hurt anyone?"

"Don't get into philosophical questions with me. You know it doesn't work."

Growing tired of his arms around her, Karen got up and headed to her bag on the other end of the room. She grabbed a pack of cigarettes in it and lit one. The sky was gray as she got a look by the window; heavy clouds over a gloomy Manhattan. What was it that whenever she was with him, life seemed to have lost all its bright?

"You are the person I have stayed with the longest."

His confession made her look down for a furtive second. It was unexpected, honest but a bit harsh to accept. She grabbed a bathrobe and put it on, feeling suddenly naked and weak as his eyes were probably staring at her intently.

"Ten years... Time surely flies by, doesn't it?"

Karen turned her head around to observe him. She had been married to Stanley for barely three months when she had met Will. At no moment would she have imagined that an affair could last so long. Yet one day she had woken up to realize that they would never stop it; it was too late for that. They had crossed some invisible limits.

"I am sorry that it has to be a secret relationship, then. I mean, for you."

"You think that I mind?"

"Who wouldn't? Nobody feels like hiding like that... Which is why I wish you to find the right one. At some point."

She went back to the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress. She grabbed the hair spin she had left on the bedside table as he had begun to undress her slowly. Putting her hair up in a loose bun, she grabbed the small item and was about to slide it in her hair when she felt his hand on her nape; the other one grabbing the hair spin.

"Let me do."

She loved these moments. When his breath caressed her nape while his fingertips brushed her skin delicately. She couldn't see him for he was in her back and it made it all even more intense somehow. And arousing.

Soon, his lips made contact with her jaw. She smiled.

"Do you think that we should celebrate it?"

"Celebrate what? The fact that I am single?"

"No... Our ten-year relationship."

She shouldn't have asked about it in the first place. It was plainly ridiculous and dangerous if Will happened to get scared of what it might have implied. But the words had been faster than her mind and the truth was that she hadn't tried either to hold them back. Besides, what kind of people did actually celebrate an affair anniversary? There wasn't a greeting card for such thing; one more proof that it had to remain untold.

"I don't know..."

It was late October, early November. The wind had stopped blowing for a while but Karen's hopes were still quietly alive.


	6. Ellipsis

**Chapter six – Ellipsis**

It was a contrast that she had always loved, something that made her feel strangely free and fine: the warmness of her coat pockets on her hands opposed to the wind embracing her face, pushing her hair away in waves of auburn shades. People walked by her side, all around her, and she let the anonymity of the crowd take her away; rock her peacefully until lightness substituted to it. And even though she would never say it to anyone, it was a fact: Karen loved walking through the streets of Manhattan.

She spotted him at the corner, just as planned. Coffee in hand, he smiled at her brightly but didn't move. He never did, actually. Just like in their hotel room. She was the one who made the first step every single time, not that Will didn't own the required boldness it took but it seemed like time had decided for them as if they were now simply following an old ritual. As a matter of fact, she had been the one who had made the first step when they had met such a long time ago. Implicitly, it always had to be her. At least did it give them some references to clutch to that wouldn't be as bare and gloomy as sexual positions in an impersonal hotel room.

Up on her tiptoes, she planted a kiss at the corner of his lips. Playfully. She wouldn't go any further in public. Never. Just in case. She had learned from the past that a mere second was enough to make a whole existence tip over and it wasn't the kind of mistake she was eager to repeat, especially with Will.

"It should be snowing. It always does. Usually..."

She had stopped wondering why they desperately clutched to a semblance of references like this one. One day, it had struck her. Easily, bitterly. Then she had moved on, trying to focus on something else than the way they were both trying to deal with the guilt their affair made them feel. In vain, though. She felt bad for Stanley, for Grace and Jack. And even more for Will even though she didn't really know why.

"It might be too cold for snow."

Would it be the same without the white flakes falling all around them like little diamonds that time would end up making melt? Unsure, Karen bit her lower lip but decided to focus on the rest, on Will who was now walking by her side and holding her hand.

As they passed the gates of Central Park, she couldn't help looking up towards the sky. Not very far on her right stood the building she lived in. With Stan. The top three floors; large windows that overlooked the immensity of the park. What if her husband was there, at this exact moment, and looked down at her? For having spent numerous hours by the windows of the living-room, Karen knew that you couldn't properly see anyone below. People simply looked like little ants, multicolored ones who went on and about in an incessant movement. But still, perhaps coincidences made it happen; no mattered Stanley wouldn't have known whom he was observing in the distance.

Turning on their right, they fastened implicitly then reached the corner where a small crowd had already gathered.

They never put seats. Because it wasn't _Shakespeare in the Park _nor any kind of big concert that would attract many people. Passers-by stopped for a while, eventually. Regulars like her and Will were rare and didn't mind staying up on their feet. Actually, it was part of it.

Gospel in the park. They had found it by accident, way back then in 1994. They had argued over absolutely nothing but a desperate attempt to ease the frustration that was growing in silence over their relation. An affair of five years couldn't go without any repercussion. Led by the kind of impulsion that only lovers have, Karen had rushed away from the coffee place they had headed to. Rushed to nowhere in particular, simply crossed the street and passed the gates of Central Park; Will running behind to catch her back.

The voices had stopped her, powerful voices that embraced your heart and made your soul feel warm. Breathless, she had approached slowly and stared at the singers not caring that much if Will would reach her back or not which had happened a few seconds later except he hadn't said a word either. Instead, he had simply stood by her side and listened to the songs with the same attention.

It had been snowing. The flakes had brushed her face and melted there like stolen kisses. Such a unique sensation; an addicting one. Then she had felt his fingers brush hers, his hand on her glove and the heat of his flesh as he had tightened his grip on her own hand.

And when the songs had stopped, they had just gone away as if nothing had happened. As if they had never argued over the slightest thing.

_Just move on and be. Live. Breathe._

But every year, they made it back to the gospel choir. Another ritual, another reference to cheat on time that passed by and dug the darkness of their affair; the shadow of their guilt. And she would have renounced to anything for this hour of songs lost in the park, at some corner of two paths.

_That's where I stand. Right now. The corner of two paths._

And she refused to make a final choice and finally go for one, only one.

But for the very first time, they would have to compose without the snow. Accept the change in their ritual. It wasn't late October, early November but December – 1999. The wind was quiet if not absent. For once.


	7. It Happened Once

**Chapter seven – It Happened Once**

So it would have taken a year, barely a year. Disarmed and angry against herself, Karen stopped walking and went to sit down on a bench. For some reason, as she had rushed out the Riverside Drive building, she hadn't turned and headed towards Central Park but simply crossed the street before going down to the marina that overlooked Jersey City. The sky was gray and heavy but she didn't care. She had other things in mind, like what had happened a few minutes before on the ninth floor.

When Will had mentioned that Grace was looking for an assistant, Karen had known that it would be a bad idea. After nine years of an anonymous affair, making it suddenly into each other's circle of friends meant crossing some limits. And why now if it hadn't occurred way earlier when it could have? But she had nodded at Will's suggestion and all of a sudden, she had got the job; not really sure how exactly. The truth was that it had turned out to be an odd but necessary getaway to the tensed atmosphere that had been floating around at the mansion with Stanley.

By accepting the job, Karen had tried to save her marriage beforehand; knowing that it would damage her affair. But that was how life worked anyway. You couldn't have it both endlessly without needing to choose at some point.

And they had hold a year. Twelve months, before mixing both of their lives; the secret one and the other one, more or less official and made of lies. For a whole year they had desperately clutched to their hotel routine and been careful. All along. Only to finally forget it all within five seconds as soon as they had happened to be alone.

They hadn't even gone to his bedroom. No. Instead and obviously not caring that someone could have walked in on them, they had had sex in the middle of the living-room. Roughly, almost as if led by a frustration that they would have hold back for too long. And then the guilt. As dopamine had begun to lose its effects, Karen had retrieved for her clothes and left without a word.

She felt hurt by herself. As much as it would have been easier, she didn't blame Will. How could she? He hadn't forced her in anything. She had her part of responsibility in all of this and she hated it.

What would happen now if they didn't have any limit left whatsoever? Karen bit her lower lip and swallowed back a wave of burning tears. Everything was falling down, breaking into tiny pieces. And soon enough, she would find herself immensely lonely among it.

"I hate when you rush away."

His voice made her jump but she pretended the exact opposite, not asking him how he had found her back; how he had guessed that she would be there by the marina when she had not gone to such a place in years.

"I don't like it either but sometimes it is how it has to work. And that is it."

A seagull stopped by a few feet away. From her bench, Karen looked intently at it. She didn't want to lock her eyes with Will's. Not after what had happened. Not after what it meant.

"I guess we are losing control of the situation."

_I guess we never knew how to handle it properly._

But her words didn't pass her lips and she simply shrugged at his comment. Of course, they were witnessing how the situation was slipping through their fingers; slowly but surely. Yet it seemed vain anyway.

"We should stick to the hotel for... For it. We shouldn't do that. We shouldn't mix both like this... Nothing good can come up from it."

She didn't sound convinced. Perhaps she needed time, now; things were too blurry. Yet she knew that her words had been wise, and true, and bare. But still. Her voice had adopted a blank tone as if she had simply been reading a text and she wasn't concerned by it.

"Why won't you look at me?"

Will's frankness. It always got on her nerves. Because she was jealous of it. Because she did not have his courage to tell people what she really did think. Biting her lower lip in some vague attempt to swallow back her frustration, she frowned and looked at the ground.

"It isn't over, is it?"

Of course not. It would never be over. Not anymore. As a matter of fact, if Karen had to be honest with herself, as soon as she had landed her eyes on Will, she had known that at no moment she would be able to stop the slightest thing. It had been a decisive meeting in her life; in a wrong way, maybe.

Sweeping away her question, she focused on a boat in front of her and cleared her voice. His hand brushed hers, softly; carefully.

"How did you know that I would be here? I don't know it myself."

Long seconds flew away in a perfect silence only punctuated by the seagulls and the soft sound of the traffic in the background.

"I wasn't looking for you. This is where I come when I need to be alone for a while."

The bittersweet irony of Will's reply made her smile almost in vain. His fingers slid on hers and soon enough, he was holding her hand.

"Let's go back to your place... Grace should be there, now."

As they stood up and began to walk towards the park behind them, Karen leaned her head on Will's shoulder and smiled bitterly as he planted a kiss on her hair. It was wrong but she couldn't care less. She needed it. It wasn't late October, early November but December, only two days after the gospel music in the park – 1999. There was still no snow, no wind. Just some heavy gray clouds in the sky.


	8. Frustration and Relief

**Chapter eight – Frustration And Relief**

She bumped against the wall. A loud sound that got stifled by the door he slammed back behind him before capturing her lips in a deep kiss. His hand had already passed under her skirt while the other had slid between the fabric of her bra and her skin to caress her breast with eagerness. Rough sex. They rarely gave into it. Even at the very beginning of their affair they had stuck to something more consensual; perhaps in an effort to balance the rest.

As his lips finally left hers for her neck, Karen heard footsteps in the corridor. Instinctively, she looked at the door and held her breath. But whoever was on the other side had kept on walking and locked in the laundry room, Will's gestures became wilder by the minute. As a matter of fact, he had already taken off her thong while his fingers were going up her thigh playfully.

"I am sure I have seen him going upstairs. Will? Are you here? Unless he is in the backyard. This is where he always goes when there is a lot of people around and he wants to give some phone call."

Marilyn. It was Marilyn's voice. Karen froze then swallowed hard. Will's mother had passed by the door, obviously looking for her son.

"Don't you think we should..."

But Will stopped her whisper, stealing it away through a kiss while he guided her hand to his pants to let her understand that her protests would be vain. He wanted her, and now.

George was fine but had to remain at the hospital for further exams. It hadn't been a heart attack as suspected in the first place but a vaso-vagal episode yet the doctors had preferred him to spend the night in observation. Just in case. Of course, it had had to happen the day Will and Karen had decided to study Stan's fortune with more attention.

_For no particular reason_, Karen had said. Yet Will perfectly knew that nobody asked for such study if there hadn't been double-thinking first. But he hadn't protested, hadn't asked for further details. And then his mother had called. Suddenly. Panicked. His father had been rushed to the hospital after losing consciousness.

Without thinking it twice, they had rushed to Connecticut renting a car and after long hours at the hospital with Marilyn had finally headed back to the Truman house. They wouldn't go back to Manhattan before the morning after; if only to keep company to Will's mother. And it was late to take the road. The day had been long, exhausting. Though they hadn't imagined that Will's brothers as well as his aunts and uncles would come too and now the house was full; like on a glorious Christmas Eve that would have turned bitter.

She unzipped his pants and let them fall on the floor while her hands went back up his legs before landing on his buttocks. He didn't need any more stimulation, aroused as he was.

Her moan found a stifled echo in his mouth while his fingers finally made it there, between her legs. Rough sex to relieve frustration and anxiety. She normally wouldn't have accepted but for some reason this time around, Karen understood Will's needs perfectly.

Besides, there was something arousing in this situation.

_What is your favorite position?_

As he lifted her legs to wrap them around his waist, Karen closed her eyes and remembered the time she had asked him about that. It had been three months since they had started the affair and everything looked new, fresh. Unknown yet.

Her question had made him laugh. By then, she didn't know that he dated men, that for a lot of people if not just everyone, he didn't go for women. At no moment had such thought actually crossed her mind. They had just had sex and were laying in bed, exactly like the other times. Except instead of letting the silence wrap them up, she had decided to make conversation.

_I don't have one._

She had rolled her eyes then looked at him, leaning up on her elbow. If he thought that he could shock her then obviously he still had a lot to learn about her. She was used to satisfy men's fantasies. As a matter of fact, it had always been like that; since the very beginning. And if at times she had been surprised, she had always accepted if only to give it a try.

_Oh, come on! We all have one._

Smirking, he had rolled on his side and put a possessive hand on her stomach. Since when was it wrong to talk about such things in bed? Since when was it wrong to speak at all? She wasn't necessarily talkative, especially when having sex, but still. If mystery was arousing, it still had to leave some room to confidences.

_What is yours, then?_

As a mischievous smile had lit up her features, she had turned around and molded her back against his chest before turning her head around again to lock her eyes with his.

_This one._

Their bodies connected and one more time she bumped against the wall in her back. She wouldn't close her eyes, this time. On the contrary. She would keep on staring at him and match every single one of his thrusts in the most complete silence; people coming and going only a foot from there, on the other side of the thin door.

They weren't at the hotel, in the perfect intimacy of a paid room but in the laundry room of Will's parents' house. Yet she didn't consider it as transgressing rules, not like the way they had had sex at his place a few days earlier. The context was different, here. It was all about frustration and relief. All about rough sex. Intensity barely contained.

And as Karen's eyes met Will's, she smiled. Now she finally knew which position he actually preferred over the other ones. It wasn't late October, early November but mid-december – 1999. It could have rained, snowed. The wind could have blown. Strongly. They wouldn't have noticed the slightest thing.


	9. From The Past

**Chapter nine – From The Past**

"I fell in love, once. I didn't ask for anything. It just happened to me. Just like that, in the most complete silence. The minute I saw him I knew that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him... Except I was married. See, sometimes feelings have nothing to do with some wedding ring."

"What happened?"

"Nothing. As I told you, I was married. Nothing was supposed to happen. So I simply turned the page over him and moved on."

"You wouldn't have been able to do so if you had really been in love. Feelings are a lot more powerful than all the rest."

"No, they aren't, honey. It is all about not allowing them to kick in for too long. And then, it is like nothing has happened."

These were harsh words and she knew it but for once, she had felt like being honest. To say what she thought. She had given up on such idea after her first marriage when a couple of rules had appeared from nowhere only to settle deeply in her head.

_There is no place for honesty. It is just about being politically correct and hypocritical. The rest is a mere game._

"But Karen... How can you say that? If you turn your back to love then you have a broken heart."

"But you survive."

"Hardly."

"Who said that life had to be easy?"

Ironically, it made Grace laugh. Probably because she could barely believe what Karen had just said. But the bitterness in her voice had been enough to let her understand that her assistant was serious and she had gone through it herself.

"So you went away from him?"

"Somehow. I just had to convince myself to... Turn the page."

Why had they begun to talk about such things in the first place? Thankfully for Karen, the phone rang and Grace took the call putting thus an end to the conversation. She usually didn't mind these moments with her friend but all of a sudden, it was taking a direction she didn't like that much. For not knowing how to deal with it properly.

It was about taking distance, not necessarily geographically but within her mind. And it had worked. Little by little, she had overcome a couple of facts only to realize that perhaps, it did not have to do with love at first sight. Not that time. Although of course, it was a lie.

"I have to go to The Queens. Looks like there is a problem with the fabric I asked for. You know, for the sofa... Do you want to come with me?"

She laughed and shook her head.

"Of course. Why have I even asked? Anyway, stay here in the meantime then. You can go at 6pm. See you at Will's, tonight."

She didn't even wait for Grace to leave the office. She didn't care anymore. As a matter of fact, it was even part of the game. With a blank automatism, she took a pill out of the bottle and gulped it down; water-free. Except the trick didn't work that much, as if the effects had finally stopped and the numbed, delicious sensations she had felt once vaguely floated over for a while before going away without leaving her relaxed.

Antidepressants. Weren't they supposed to be strong ones?

Sighing loudly, Karen stood up and went for a coffee. She hated when Grace left her alone in the office. The silence was oppressive and she felt cold, vulnerable. It was a peculiar place; it needed life around, laughs and conversations. Not the disillusioned steps of a heartbroken woman.

She closed her eyes and leaned against the wall. Focusing on the evening that had to come. It would help make the hours fly by. It always did. A dinner at his place before Christmas and its dizzy frenzy she didn't like. Stanley hadn't told her about their plans yet. Hopefully there was no business meeting scheduled in some remote town on the other side of the country. It had become a tradition for the past few years .

_Just like the irreversible distance between him and I._

"Red or white?"

His voice didn't even make her start. Instead, she smiled and passed her tongue over her lips in anticipation. Keeping her eyes closed, she waited for a sign. His hand on her stomach that suddenly sped up the beats of her heart.

And then his lips, on her neck.

She laughed silently then shook her head.

"This is not the right place, Will."

Yet she slid her hand down his buttocks and dragged him to her against the wall for a deep, proper kiss. Her knee went up his leg until she made contact with the bulge in his pants. It was still deadly silent around her but all of a sudden, she couldn't care less.

What about the hotel?

"Wait."

Finally opening her eyes, Karen locked them with Will's brown ones. He smiled at her then winked.

"Hello..."

Letting a silent laugh escape, Karen looked around. It was Grace's place, Will's soul mate. They just couldn't have sex there. They had crossed the lines a long time ago yet but still, there were different stages that perhaps they shouldn't try to reach.

Planting a trail of kisses down her neck, Will seemed to not care at all. How could he be so detached when Grace meant so much to him?

"By the way, you didn't answer... Red or white? Wine. For tonight."

She grabbed his hand, and held it tight. It was warm. Soft. She had kissed it, caressed it so many times that she could have recognized it even in the dark. Hers felt naked without his.

"Come with me."

They undressed in the backroom, laid down on the red velvet sofa and lost themselves in a whirl of moans and sighs no mattered the place belonged to Grace. It wasn't late October, early November but the end of December – 1999. The snow had joined the wind to blow hard.


	10. Circles

_**Languages are a beautiful mess**_

_**So far from The Tower of Babel**_

_**Me, I want to hear your voice**_

_**I miss you, love**_

**Chapter ten – Circles**

The loud sigh echoed in the empty office, embracing coldly her delicate frame. She always had the sensation to feel weak when coming there. And she came way too often.

Clearing his voice, he simply looked at her and shook his head. He seemed helpless, worried and uncomfortable. Oddly enough, she wondered what she herself looked like at that exact moment. It was probably not better. As a matter of fact, she felt the need to cry.

"I don't understand."

She swallowed hard and looked aside. The trees of the street had reached the window now. When she had come the first time, you still could clearly see the buildings on the opposite sidewalk. Time flew away, seasons went by but she remained unchanged and had to face the same situations all over again. It dragged her down.

"I really don't understand, Karen. It is the fourth time... Are you sure that you want to go through it again? You know, maybe it is a sign. Maybe you should think about it twice."

The taste of blood ran on her tongue and she realized that she had been biting the inside of her lip too hard. Frowning, she took a deep breath and shook her head at the man. She had not come to be influenced. It wasn't right.

"You aren't supposed to say such thing."

She was right and he knew it. He didn't insist, didn't protest and simply opened her file. It was almost getting redundant when she thought about it. Blankly, she looked down at the notes, the series of numbers and signatures on the bottom of several pages. Her own one.

"We aren't in a hurry... Not this time... In two weeks? I am afraid we are booked until then."

She rolled her eyes, exasperated. She wasn't that genuine. Way too old, for that.

"I won't change my mind. There is no need to give me more time."

It didn't have to to with stubbornness or determination but logic. Necessity. Not a choice at all. It came up as a dead-end path and she had to deal with it.

Another loud sigh from him and as he shook his head, she knew that he had abdicated. It was a free country, anyway. These were her rights. She was simply using them now.

"Fine. You know the procedure, I don't need to explain anything... I suppose. I will get the papers ready so you can sign them with Julia. She will give you what you need."

Filling a new form, he kept on rambling and she stopped listening to him. Her mind was off. She had seen Will the day before. At the hotel. Nothing special to say; their old routine in a word. Lies and quietness; going around in circles. Their own routine was a mess.

"Still nothing about the father, I presume."

Father. The word hit her hard. It didn't suit the situation, didn't suit her nor her life. There must have been another term to use, a more convenient one. She nonetheless shook quietly her head before crossing her hands on her lap. Then, almost defiantly, she locked her eyes with doctor Smith. He didn't add anything. What for, anyway? It was always the same with her. Always the same despite the years.

"Do we stick to birth control pill? Not that the DIU was more effective but perhaps we could try..."

She cut him, obviously unwilling to hear more from it.

"That's fine."

The scientist chuckled, probably lost in the irony of her last comment. Putting his hands on her medical file, he looked up at her and shook his head for what seemed the thousandth time.

"No, it isn't. Four times, Karen. Four times. This is going to be your fourth abortion and yet you tell me that you haven't skipped your pill, that you don't take any risk... I don't get it. What is happening that you get pregnant so easily?"

She had no idea. It just occurred and then she had to deal with it. The pain barely lasted a few hours after the medical intervention. She was used to it, now. As bitter as it could be.

"Motherhood isn't such a bad thing, you know. You should consider it. And not just because you are pregnant now but because one day, you might wake up and change your mind but it will be too late."

"I don't want to have a child. Where do I sign?"

As she stepped out of the clinic a few minutes later, Karen plunged her hands in the pockets of her coat and focused on her smile. She only had two blocks left to get one back. Anyway, why would she stop there in the middle of the street and burst into cries? It wouldn't change the situation, wouldn't make it easier. Besides, she hated being like that. There was no need to look for the dark side. Things happened? Then it was just about dealing with them and go on without ever looking behind.

She turned at the corner and spotted Jack waiting for her; a coffee in hand. He smiled at her. She swallowed hard, took a deep breath and smiled back.

_Couldn't be easier, as a matter of fact._

"Hey, honey..."

It had stopped being late October, early November. It was now December – 1999. Christmas was coming and the wind had never blown so hard. She missed the fall and its promises. Atrociously.


	11. When The Sun Rises

**Chapter eleven – When the Sun Rises**

"You could have told me, you know."

Standing by the fireplace a drink in hand, she turned her head around and stared at him in the most complete confusion. A second earlier they had all been laughing and suddenly he had adopted that serious tone of voice she hated so much; the one that made her feel stupid and childish.

"About what, exactly?"

The Whiskey burnt her throat as she took a sip. She restrained a face. It was far from being her favorite drink and she still didn't understand why she had chosen it in the first place. It tended to remind her of Stanley, besides. And her previous husbands. They all had a special thing for the Irish alcohol. If she added a cigar, the scene would be complete.

"About the flowers you sent to my father. It was very kind of you. My mother was touched."

Will's comment made her blush. She turned around immediately to hide her red cheeks and looked down at the flames instead. Why had Grace and Jack left? Why had she stayed? She should have gone away with the others. Now she was stuck at his place; close to him.

"It is the least I could do. After all, I was there when he got admitted to the ER. It is an act of pure politeness."

She gulped down what was left of her drink and closed her eyes. She wasn't fine. Something went to her head and made her feel dizzy. Probably the blurry ruins of the dreams she had had the previous night; about her pregnancy. She couldn't remember the slightest thing but having dreamed about it then she had woken up shaking in bed. The sun hadn't risen yet. The night was full of ghost promises.

"She asked me who you were exactly."

Putting her empty glass on top of the fireplace, Karen turned around. Her eyes searched for her bag. She was dying for a cigarette. Spotting it on the sofa, she went for it and shook her head at Will.

"Who?"

She lit her cigarette and felt how the nicotine calmed down her heartbeats immediately. So far, smoking was the best drug she had ever tried. And she had experienced many of them, too many.

"My mother. She asked me who you were exactly."

Karen chuckled quietly then shook her head. Would Jack or Grace ever come back before anything happened between Will and her? She didn't want it to end that way. Not there. Not at his place. Once was enough; same for the office when she thought about it.

"She knows who I am! We met a few times last year."

She was about to bring the cigarette to her lips when he stole it from her; his fingers softly brushing hers. The unexpected gesture made her jump but she didn't protest and looked at him as he began to smoke it.

"You know what I mean."

She did but it was far from anything she had planned, anything she might have had in her mind for the moment. She felt a veil of ice embrace her heart. She swallowed hard. She was married, dammit! There were things that had to remain untold.

"What did you tell her?"

He gave her back her cigarette but all of a sudden, she didn't feel like smoking anymore. It was all becoming too much, too heavy. She needed fresh air and to leave that place as soon as possible. Perhaps take a couple of decisions too concerning her current life.

"That I didn't know."

She couldn't help bursting out laughing. He had to be joking. It had been ten years, now. Ten bloody years of lies and secret encounters in Manhattan hotels; a couple of mistakes as well maybe but it didn't take long to realize that they were having an affair. A classic one? It crossed her mind for a few seconds. She frowned. As a matter of fact, she had no idea what a classic affair was. Yet she wanted hers to be singular.

"Excuse me?"

Something hurt in her stomach. The baby? Of course not. Now that was a ridiculous idea. It had to be fear or incomprehension. A thousand things, actually.

Will shrugged and looked aside. For the very first time, he seemed confused; embarrassed. It was an odd thing to witness. She didn't like it. What was happening, all of a sudden? For then years, they hadn't asked themselves the slightest thing. What was it that now, it all seemed to come to different ends?

"I don't know whether we are lovers or friends."

As the heat began to burn her fingers, she abandoned the cigarette in the ashtray and took another one. She needed endless doses of nicotine.

"And lovers can't be friends?"

The truth was that she wasn't sure herself of what they were. She simply hadn't tried to put a definition over their situation. Not that she had avoided facts but it hadn't crossed her mind.

"I don't think so. Or at least, not on the long term. Once you start sleeping with your friend then you have crossed the limits of friendship and it won't never be the same anymore."

She swallowed hard. She didn't like the direction their conversation was taking. Yet she did not manage to grab her coat and leave. She couldn't do that, not without feeling the heat of his lips on hers at least once.

"I beg to disagree. But perhaps I am just being ridiculously optimistic."

She smiled weakly, looking in front of her; desperately avoiding Will. It wasn't late October, early November anymore but the end of December – 1999. Christmas would be celebrated in three days and the blowing storm had ceased.


	12. Expectations

**Chapter twelve – Expectations**

If she plunged her head under the water and held her breath, her lungs would soon fill themselves of water then she would cease to breathe. Suffocation; it left enough time to face death and the long corridor that led to it. There was something frightening in the idea; and yet tantalizing if she had to be honest.

Yes, she found seduction in death and assumed it.

A knock on the door. It was probably Stanley. He wouldn't come in, just talk through as he used to. They had never shared a bath, barely a bed once. She couldn't even remember the last time he had seen her naked in full light. She didn't interest him anymore or at least nor on this level. And it hurt, somehow. It left a bitter taste on her pride.

"What is it?"

As expected, her husband's voice resounded loud yet a bit tired, lascivious.

"I just wanted to remind you that dinner was at eight."

Why did he always feel the urge to remind her things? As if she were a little girl who could not assume her responsibilities. She hated it. As a matter of fact, it made her mad but for not feeling like wasting her energy, she never protested against it.

"Fine. Give me thirty minutes from now."

She plunged under the water of the bathtub and kept her eyes open, staring intently at the blurry world from there. It was all so silent if only for the regular beats of her heart. Slow, following some unknown rhythm that rocked her peacefully.

If she had never liked Christmas Eve, it seemed even worse for once. Stanley had accepted some last-minute invitation and she had had to renounce to her evening with Will and Jack.

_I am married. I have priorities and can't but respect them even though they weren't planned in the first place. This is what marriage is about: compromises and regrets._

Will had looked disappointed. Not sad, just disappointed. As if nothing had been happening, she had observed him behind her glass of wine then analyzed his reactions. It was awful yet she loved seeing him suffer when she wasn't around. It gave her a sentiment of property and there was nothing more addicting.

Slowly, Karen stepped out of the tub and went to wrap herself in her bathrobe. She lacked motivation to go out. The sky was gray and the wind was chilly; a snowy day even though it seemed like the clouds would never release the white flakes from their arms.

Heading back to her bedroom, she crossed absolutely nobody. This mansion was too big, too cold and too lonely. What was it that when one had money, it was all about taking distance with relatives? There was absolutely no family spirit over there. No spirit at all, actually. She grabbed a black dress and put it on.

She had gained weight. Her hips. It was visible even though the dark fabric embraced her curves with elegance. Stupid pregnancy! Why was she so fertile? There was no point since she didn't want a child. Yet she didn't stop getting pregnant. It was a fact. She was on the pill and yet... She bit her lower lip; swallowed hard. She had to focus on something else. It wasn't good to brood over this.

Thirty minutes later, she joined Stanley in the library. The smell of cigar stirred up a wave of nausea. Frowning, she took a long breath. The abortion couldn't come soon enough.

_And then what? Wait till the next one?_

"Fine. Let's go now."

Not a single compliment. Barely a gaze, as a matter of fact. Disillusioned, she followed her husband to the elevator in a perfect silence. They had lost their ability to talk, to actually hold a conversation. It was sad, of course. Yet she didn't mind that much. At least Stanley left her alone when needed.

"I would like to stop by The Rockfeller Center. To see the tree."

Stanley burst out laughing. Openly. Shaking his head, he stared at her in disbelief as if she had simply lost her mind.

"How many glasses did you have before leaving?"

An alcoholic. He took her for an alcoholic. He hadn't been joking around. He hadn't used a light tone as she herself did at times. Instead, he had looked slightly exasperated. Not really amused by her request. And of course, he hadn't taken her seriously.

She looked down at her feet then hurried out of the elevator as soon as they reached the lobby of their building. It was becoming hard to be stuck in such a small room with a man she didn't know anymore; a man who looked like a stranger and left her cold inside.

"I want to stop there, like every year. I want to see the crowd, and the tree. It is like some sort of tradition for me."

Stanley sighed. She didn't look at him but knew that he had rolled his eyes. Obviously, he didn't want to arrive too late at their dinner. Ridiculous fear since they were on time and the rules of socialite spheres asked implicitly for a fifteen-minute delay at least.

"I didn't know that you were the tradition type."

Their chauffeur opened the door of the limousine but as she was about to step in, Karen stopped and turned around to look properly at her husband.

"What do you know about me, anyway? What do you care..."

It had been a mistake. As soon as the words hit the air, she knew that she should have remained quiet. Awkwardly, she settled in the car and avoided Stan's gaze on her.

"Why do you want to stop there, anyway? What are your expectations, exactly?"

He didn't seem to be angry over her previous remark. Swallowing hard, Karen contemplated the question for long seconds. It was a good one, as a matter of fact. The conclusion hit her like a ton of bricks and embraced the air in a whisper of agony.

"I don't have the slightest one..."

She held back her cries.

It wasn't late October, early November anymore but Christmas Eve – 1999. The sky was gray and heavy; the wind icy. She wasn't fine.


	13. Make a Wish

**Chapter thirteen – Make a Wish**

They had gone to the hotel a few hours earlier and from then on the heavy sensation had not left her shoulders. It wasn't the routine aspect of their affair but an unreachable feeling she couldn't name that all of a sudden had begun to drag her down. Unless it had been like that for a while but she had only realized it now. She couldn't say and didn't mind anyway. It didn't change the fact that it was there; all the time.

"I am tired."

Leaning her chin on the palm of her hand, she looked by the window of the coffee place and observed the passers-by in the street. Even the Manhattan boiling life didn't bring her an ounce of energy. It was just as if her brain had disconnected from her heart and she was just a rag doll now.

Will grabbed his spoon. She saw him from the corner of her eye. What for? He liked a black coffee, sugar free. There was nothing to turn around in his mug. All of a sudden, his habit went on her nerves and she bit her lower lip.

"Get a full-night sleep."

She took a sip of her own coffee then shook her head at him.

"It isn't what I..."

"I know what you mean."

Karen looked up at him, hoping for an answer through his eyes. Anything that would sound relieving enough but as usual nothing came up. She felt like shaking him, literally. Then yell and tell him a thousand things she would regret afterward. To throw a fit at him so he could react and she would feel alive again. But Will never protested, never complained.

"Perhaps a ten-year commitment is the maximum. Perhaps we can't go any further."

Finally putting back on the table The New York Times, he locked his eyes with hers then let a smile play on his lips. A quiet, harmonious one. How she hated it.

"I am not sure that we are actually what we could define as committed. Are we? We only go and bang each other. Sure, it has been a while but that is all. You are married, I date other guys. Odd commitment if this is one."

Yet it didn't sound like that. On the paper, it looked perfect. But in real life, Karen had the feeling that she was more committed to Will than to her own husband.

"You never date anyone."

Poor argument but she didn't find any other. Feeling the heat rush up her cheeks, she hid behind her coffee and looked aside. They should never spend time together just after their hotel encounters. The setting was odd and the context delicate. She felt naked in front of him; vulnerable.

"Not true. Just because I don't tell Grace anything doesn't mean that my life is empty."

Karen raised a dubious eyebrow. Will and Grace lived together. Grace would have noticed it if he had gone out an evening and she would have told her too about it. Because Grace did not know how to keep a secret. She always spilled the beans.

"Sure. And what is his name? Daniel? Paul? Matthew? We will only see the ghost of him at the end, anyway. I was alluding to a real, serious relationship. This is your life that you are missing out, Will."

Will. She had called him by his name. It was rare and had actually not sounded right when she thought about it retrospectively. Besides, it was a poor excuse to give her own pain the explanation she was desperately looking for.

He chuckled then grabbed back the newspapers but began to play with the pages. He was nervous. And it was her fault. A pure, free act of nastiness.

"Perhaps I am just looking for the right one. And yet, does it mean we will ever stop going at the hotel?"

A few seconds passed by before Will snorting.

"Why don't you answer?"

Pushing the coffee cup away from her on the table, Karen frowned and shook her head. She hated when he did that. It reminded her of Stanley and the way he used to treat her like a child. As a matter of fact, it reminded her of all the men she had got in her life.

"It is a rhetorical question. Therefore the answer lies in the question itself."

From the other side of their table, Will bent over and locked his eyes with hers. They were too close, all of a sudden. It was a public place, not the intimacy of some hotel room.

"Fine. Then make a wish."

His request took her aback. She barely repressed a smile.

"What?"

Shrugging, Will looked around. His eyes stopped in her back as the door got opened. Grace and Jack had arrived. She had seen it through his gaze; the way his body had tensed.

"Within forty-eight hours, we will start a new year. Do you know any better moment to make resolutions? Make a wish over what you want. And stick to it."

For long seconds, she observed him; the way he made some room for his 'Gracie'. How Jack stole the little cookie from his plate. It was just as if nothing had happened. As if they hadn't had sex a few hours earlier nor openly talked about their dead-end affair only a few seconds before.

It was frightening to see him so good at pretending.

All of a sudden, his eyes stopped on her and with his typical carefree attitude, he simply put a smile on his lips. An arrogant one.

"Done?"

Without breaking eye-contact, she nodded; aware of Jack and Grace's curious gazes on the two of them. For once Will and Karen shared something more or less secret.

It wasn't late October, early November anymore but the end of December – 1999. The wind was there, blowing, but invisible. Karen was having doubts.


	14. Countdown

**Chapter fourteen – Countdown**

_I want a child._

They had argued in the past. As a matter of fact, it seemed like they were doing so almost constantly when she thought about it. She had simply come to the conclusion that it was some sort of a shield; a balance to accept the odd situation they were in. Except that time, their argument had owned a bitter taste and she didn't know what to think about it.

Nobody had yelled. Nobody had called the other names. Nobody had protested. The words had come up by themselves as a soft, delicate question had been suggested. But it had been enough to settle a wave of discomfort and she had left the hotel quietly.

_Ask Grace about it._

Men had never seen her through the image of motherhood. She was a lover; a woman with curves and sexual urges. Nothing else. Her place was in bed satisfying them. Certainly not in a nursery feeding a new-born. Had she just accepted the idea through the years? It was hard to tell. She couldn't remember having felt this desire deep inside. As a matter of fact, she barely interacted with children. They weren't part of her life.

Ten years. Why did things have to suddenly worsen after a whole decade? Relationships were more efficient when nobody began to think or analyze the slightest thing. Especially affairs. They weren't made for it.

_She isn't the one. I want you to be._

Closing her eyes, Karen held Jack tighter against her and breathed deeply; slowly. It was strange but somehow, she would have preferred them to properly argue. Yelling owned that relieving shade that took away frustration if only for a while. Confessing things through an endless series of half-words left a sentiment of unfinished story. She hated it.

She opened her eyes back only to lose herself in his brown gaze. He was there, in Grace's arms; only a few feet away from her. He was looking at her intently. Silently. Time vanished and for a few seconds, she forgot everything. It was just about her. Her and Will.

_Don't be silly. This is ridiculous and you know it._

Within two days, she would get rid of it. _It_. Will couldn't have guessed about her pregnancy. She hadn't started to show. It was way too early for that. Just a bad coincidence, probably. Anyway it wouldn't last too long, now. It would hurt for a couple of days and then, it would all go back to normal. One more time. If he had known...

And then she saw him smile. Softly at first before a veil of confidence to steal his features. They would do just fine. It was over, now. He had forgiven her as she had left the hotel and walked straight outside through the crowded streets of Midtown Manhattan.

So she smiled back at him but kept on hugging Jack. It didn't last very long but she had the odd feeling that time was slowing down; like in a movie. Except life never offered this kind of opportunities. She knew it too well to still believe in it.

"Happy New Year, Karen..."

Jack's voice pierced through her bubble and she came back to reality. Planting a kiss on his cheek, she looked at her friend and smiled brightly.

"Happy New Year, Jackie."

There they were. 1999 had disappeared through a whirl of kisses and blurry memories. She would have preferred to end it on another tone but then he should have never said such a thing in the first place. She was married to another man. She didn't want to be a mother. It didn't suit her aspirations. They only met for sex and that was it.

Then, slowly, she made a step towards Will. He opened his arms to her and she gladly went for them. Something burnt in her throat as she let herself invade by his body's heat. She felt his lips, there, on her neck. They brushed her skin through a stolen kiss. She held him tight and hope for time to stop definitely. Ten years of a relationship. It was still something, even though nobody knew about it.

"I'm sorry..."

She laughed quietly against his shoulder. His apologies were sweet; sweetly whispered. Yet she didn't need them at all. She had turned the page. Swallowing back what looked like a wave of tears, she bit her lower lip and frowned; closed her eyes.

"Happy New Year, Will."

And then she let go of his arms. And then life came back to normal in spite of an odd, tough bittersweet taste that seemed to weigh a lot more than it used to once. It couldn't be the end yet. Not now. Never. Could it?

She was about to turn around and go back to Jack and Grace when she felt his hand on her very own one. She stopped and looked back at him. Why did he look confused? What was he sensing exactly?

"Happy New Year, Karen. Take care of you. Please."

And all of a sudden, the boiling life of Times Square wrapped her up. It was oppressing, too much excitation; too much joy around. It made her feel dizzy. Unless she just felt like going away and burst into tears.

"Let's go find a bar."

The countdown was over. Did it offer new perspectives? Instinctively, she looked up at Will and went to hold his hand tightly as they made their way through the crowd. Hopefully, it would. Yet she didn't know how exactly.

The first hours of the morning took away ten years of secrecy. It wasn't late October, early November but January, 1st – 2000. There was no wind left; no cloud or sun. Just an odd, lonely desert opened to her heart.


	15. What If

**Chapter fifteen – What If**

The ring began to twirl around, producing a singular sound on the wood of the desk; catching the sunlight in what looked like a sparkle, almost invisible to the eye. And then it stopped, fell flat in the most complete, bitter silence. Swallowing hard, she kept on staring at it intently, through tired eyes.

"You don't look fine."

Grace's remark barely hit her. She heard the words but let them go away and waited for long seconds before to give her friend a proper answer. Her eyes never breaking away from her wedding band.

"My father passed away thirty years ago."

A cramp spread over her stomach and she bit the inside of her mouth. She should have stayed in bed instead of coming to the office but the immensity of her Upper East Side mansion had weighed a lot and all of a sudden, she had found herself getting up and leave. At least she had Grace during the day. She might not have known it but the red-hair had lightened up most of her dark days.

"Oh. I am sorry."

She let a silent laugh escape. How she hated when people apologized when they weren't the ones to blame. It didn't make sense. It had never made sense. Not that observing a coffin disappear under her feet as a child had made more sense now she thought about it.

"_C'est la vie!_"

The smile she forced herself into hurt and she suddenly stood up to get some coffee. Too suddenly. The room began to spin around and she had to close her eyes then took a long, deep breath. She had gone to the clinic in the morning. Alone. Within a couple of hours, she had been back on the street as if nothing had happened; painkillers in a plastic bag.

Abortions were getting tougher. Perhaps because the first time, she had assumed that it would be over, definitely. But it had turned into a recurring torture through the years. It was a traumatic experience, especially when nobody else was around.

"If you want to take the day off..."

"No!"

She had sounded desperate and she knew it. Mug in hand, she looked down at her feet and turned her back at Grace. She poured herself some coffee then went back to her desk. She shouldn't have alluded to her father's death. Now Grace felt uncomfortable, logically enough. It wasn't fair.

"There is something else, right?"

She counted until five and looked up at her friend. Straight in the eyes. For a few seconds, she knew it would be better to deny it but she didn't have the strength. It was one of these lonely days when gray sky weighed too much over the rest and you wanted nothing but to cry. She was sad. And felt trapped.

"I am in love."

The words didn't sound right at all. As a matter of fact, she swallowed hard and bit the inside of her mouth as the lack of harmony hit her hard.

"Does Stanley know about it?"

Grace's question didn't even take her aback. Laughing silently, Karen shook her head then put back her wedding band on. The diamond brushed her skin; coldly.

"It has been ten years now. Ten bloody years... A whole life!"

Surprise soon got replaced by confusion on Grace's face. It was expected or at least it should have been if only logically. Karen took a sip of her coffee then waited. She wouldn't force anything. She wouldn't be the one who would make the first step. Anyway, she shouldn't have spoken at all in the first place. It was a dangerous conversation and she knew it way too well.

"Didn't you get married ten years ago?"

Slowly, Karen nodded then looked aside; focusing on the windows and the brick walls the office was facing. She had observed it way too many times. Under all kind of weather; all kind of fluctuation from her heart. Now she was getting tired of that.

"I did... I had got married four months before. Unless it was three..."

There was no effect in her voice. No effect afterward. It sounded blank. Repressing a yawn, she began to play with her coffee mug; an eye looking closely at her wedding band. She had loved it once. She had lost herself in its beauty, the purity of the gem. Now it looked heavy and bare.

"Are you... Are you going to leave Stanley? Are you..."

This time, she laughed frankly. There was nothing funny about it because if she had to be honest, she would recognize that she had thought about it over and over. If only quietly, in the silence of her heart. But she wasn't stupid and even less dreamy.

"Of course not! I mean... No!"

"But if you are in love... It doesn't make sense!"

She seriously doubted that life ever made sense anyway. Or her father wouldn't have passed away when she was so young; and her mother wouldn't have fallen into such despair that everything had suddenly exploded in a thousand pieces and she had been left without references.

"It is just an affair. And it is better this way around. Too complicated. Too... Too stupid."

The phone rang. Loudly. Harshly. But Grace didn't move. Instead, she kept on staring on Karen with a dubious look as if the dark-haired woman had lost her mind.

It didn't have to do with choices. It was the way things were and would always be.

Annoyed, Karen rolled her eyes then sighed.

"Can't you just answer this goddamn phone?"

And turn the page over what she had said.

It wasn't late October, early November but January – 2000. There was an icy breeze embracing Karen's neck. It made her feel lonely.


	16. Back To The Beginning

**Chapter sixteen – Back to the Beginning**

She wished she could have reached his hand then press it lightly; feeding herself of his heat. She felt cold and lonely. In pain.

As she remained quiet, he gave her a timid smile then took a sip of his coffee. They had to talk. About a thousand things yet her courage had one more time disappeared as soon as she had passed the door of the coffee place and she had spotted him at a table nearby the fireplace.

She had come to such conclusions when realizing that something hurt deep inside. An affair didn't have to do that. It didn't belong to the scheme. It was all about sex – satisfaction – and autonomy. But she was growing addicted to whatever they were having and she didn't like it.

After ten years, it was probably logical yet she couldn't let it happen. Because there was Stanley; and Grace. Because it wasn't what they had defined in the first place. When one lost control of everything, then it was time to run away from it before facing the ruin of what had seemed once easy.

"Have you cried? Your eyes are red..."

She waved the question off and repressed a light yet bitter laugh. He cared for her. Of course, he did. A decade; they had spent a decade together.

"Contact lenses problem."

He seemed surprised but soon enough, an amused smile played on his lips. Raising an eyebrow, Will passed his tongue over his lips.

"I didn't know that you wore contact lenses."

Cruel. What did they know about each other exactly? Apart from their bodies; what made them shiver and sigh over the bedsheets. But then there was this element she couldn't manage to define; the thing that made the difference and bothered her so much. Love? She swept away the idea and swallowed as hard as she could. It wasn't the right moment to plunge herself in some sort of sentimental analyze of her so-called feelings.

"What do you expect from me?"

The question took him aback and she looked at him as he moved nervously on his seat; passing a hand through his hair. Why did she have to think so much? Apparently he didn't and everything was fine for him; there was no problem, nothing to be scared of.

"What do you mean?"

She shrugged, looked back at her coffee. She hadn't drunk it yet. She wasn't thirsty. Actually, since her abortion, she felt empty; in pain. Perhaps it had been too much and she would never go through it again and properly. She had missed her chances.

"From our relation. Ten years... Time to take stock of everything."

A baby cried somewhere in the background. It went straight to her chest, hitting her badly. It wasn't the right moment for this. Not now. Not there. Too complicated. She opened her mouth to add something but Will spoke first.

"I just wanted you to be happy."

She hadn't expected this; from the past tense to the confession in itself. She let the words wrap her up but blocked her brain so she didn't get used to them. What for? It was all vain and she knew it way too well.

"This is what I have always wanted; you to be happy. I have never wanted to hurt you, to put you in a delicate situation or even worse a dead-end path. I know that you are married. I know what I have to expect from what we live. I was just hoping that my company would make you happy."

She let a silent laugh escape then shook her head in disbelief. It didn't make sense. People who were having an affair couldn't be happy. They felt guilty, were invaded by remorse and all of a sudden they woke up realizing that they had crossed a dangerous limit.

"Happy? Why, do I look sad? Did I look sad by then when we met at the hotel bar?"

She was on the defensive and it wasn't fair for him. He didn't know the slightest thing; mainly because she hadn't told him. And he couldn't guess. She was good at hiding things.

"You looked like you didn't belong to the right place."

She clenched her fists. Something was boiling in her lower stomach. Rage? Frustration? Something that had grown in silence over the years and was now on the verge to explode. Except it wouldn't make her feel better because this only happened in movies; and novels.

Life was too cruel to look like fiction.

"And do you think you succeeded?"

Raising a hand to defend himself, Will shook his head then sighed loudly. He hadn't come for a fight. Neither had she but things had turned this way by themselves. Perhaps it was fate, after all.

"I was hoping for it. But... Obviously I was wrong. I am sorry."

The baby cried again and this time she turned around to observe the scene. A new-born. She couldn't really see the face for it being wrapped in blankets. Such a tiny human being. Alive. She looked back at Will and swallowed hard.

"Throughout these ten years, I had four abortions. I thought about leaving Stanley at least a dozen of times and I kept on lying to everyone; starting with myself. See... This is not what I call happiness."

She waited for long seconds but before Will's obvious silence, she grabbed her coat – her bag – and left without a single gaze back; wondering why she had said that. Why she had just put an end to the only reason to make her smile.

Because Will was right. He did bring her happiness. A singular one.

It wasn't late October – early November anymore but sometime in January – 2000. The snow was back, recovering it all. Stifling the sounds of her broken life.


	17. The Wind Drifts Us Apart

**Chapter seventeen – The Wind Drifts Us Apart**

She remembered the bare contact of her lips with the cigarette and the contrast as his hand had slid on her nape; soft, warm flesh against her own one.

She remembered the way she had stayed still instead of turning around to face him; as if she hadn't wanted to make it too easy to him.

Then his lips had landed on her shoulder and he had pushed her against the wall in the darkness of the night; the traffic below echoing their stifled sighs.

She had left without a word, barely looking at him before readjusting her skirt and only as her cab had driven away towards The Upper East Side, had Karen understood that it would always be like that.

She had told him about her abortions, and the doubts she had gone through. She had said it all without any warning with all the harshness her frustration had brought. Yet they couldn't have cared less. They hadn't even talked about anything. No. Instead, they had simply had sex – rough sex – as if nothing had happened and one more time they were back at the beginning. It had left a singular taste in her mouth; the feeling to be unreachable and yet bitter, vulnerable.

Cries were stuck in her throat. They had failed in the nothingness of their relation. Odd it hurt so much when she thought about it. Yet she couldn't really help. Will. His name had turned into an obsession and that was it. She needed him. She needed his body against hers, in hers. His voice whispering against her ear and the taste of his lips; the scent he left on her skin.

If she was in love with him then it had to be a dark love; a suffocating one. Addicting. Perhaps in other circumstances, they would have made something of it. But there they were, now. Trapped in their own game. And it hurt.

He had to care about what she had lived, the nightmares she had experienced. He couldn't remain cold before it because if he did then he was just heartless and she should leave him. Except she had reached this point when nothing could push her to do so. Will was killing her softly and that was how it had to be. She liked suffering when it came from him. At least it made her feel alive.

"You won't get a divorce from me, will you?"

Slowly, she let her fork wander around in her plate; brushing the fish and the vegetables she had not eaten yet. She would have imagined that such question would touch her, would at least stir up some sensations but it hadn't. She swallowed hard, closed her eyes for a few seconds then passed her tongue over her lips.

"No, I won't."

And that was it. She looked at Stanley stand up then leave the room with a satisfied smile on his lips. Who had said marriage wasn't easy? Questions had answers, it barely took five seconds to get through it. What was so complicated when feelings weren't involved?

"Just don't bring him, here. Please."

Surprised, she turned her head around and saw Stanley by the door. Apparently, he had come back at some point. Probably to make things clear. She simply nodded then looked away before clearing her voice. Everything went wrong, lately. And nothing made sense.

"How do you know?"

A disillusioned smile lit up her husband's features and for a few seconds, Karen assumed he was sad; if not bitter before their obvious failed relationship.

"I may have not shared your bed in a while, I still know you by heart."

It hit her harder than a slap. Only the truth could hurt like that; and that odd sensation that everything was slowly falling apart.

She should have never got married. Thus, she wouldn't have found herself in that hotel and she would not have met Will. She shouldn't...

…

It wasn't late October – early November but mid-January and as she stepped out in the street, Karen came to face the wind. It swept the streets in the night; in silence. The sound of her stilettos echoing behind, she went down a few blocks before turning on her right. It was still there. She had carefully avoided to pass in front of it so many times in the past.

Without thinking it twice, she went up the few steps and pushed the door. No. Nothing had changed. From the fireplace in the lounge to the old, impeccable carpet on the floor; English style.

"A dry Martini."

The waiter left and she settled down in an armchair then grabbed a cigarette out of her pack. Before she could reach her lighter, the matchbox to the name of the hotel landed on the coffee table. She looked up, obviously surprised by the unexpected move, then frowned; taken aback.

"I rarely take by briefcase by night. I needed something else to get your attention, this time."

A bit speechless and uncertain to understand everything, she let Will sit down on the armchair next to hers and nodded thankfully to the waiter as he brought her the drink.

"Same for me."

The employee left again.

"What are you doing here? Did you follow me? Did you stop by the mansion to talk to me? Yet they don't know where I was going. I didn't know it myself until the last second."

Will shook his head before vaguely motioning at the lounge; shrugging.

"I come here every since and then. I like it, here. It makes me think of you."

Now, that was unexpected. Flattered yet nonetheless uncomfortable, Karen looked aside and bit her lip in silence. As if carried on by a troubling whirl of courage, Will kept on talking.

"I'm sorry you had to go through all of this. You should have told..."

She rose her hand and he stopped in his tracks. As a matter of fact, she didn't need to think about it; not even a second because it seemed clear. And fine. Just like that, all of a sudden.

"It belongs to the past, now."

She took a sip of her Martini. Drinking was easier than talking.

"What if the wind drifts us apart?"

She hadn't expected such question from him. Yet it meant a lot if not just everything. He cared. Maybe he didn't have the right words nor the courage it took to face it all properly nor at the right moment but a single sentence had finally – unexpectedly – resulted enough. Slowly, she bent over and captured his lips in a soft kiss.

"It won't. Because it will always be like this."

Precarious - painful - yet terribly addicting. In a word, just another love story. Not perfect. Endlessly secretive. But sweet.


End file.
